


Can You Hear Me Screaming, “Please Don’t Leave Me”

by Squibbles94



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Accidental overdose, Awesome Pepper Potts, Bad Things Happen Bingo, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, No Major Character Death, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker is an idiot, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark is bad with feelings, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squibbles94/pseuds/Squibbles94
Summary: How was he going to get through the weekend without Mr. Stark figuring out that Peter was sleep-deprived? This thought plagued Peter as he stared at the ceiling, wishing his brain and ears would just disconnect from the world.Then it occurred to him. There was a bottle of sleeping pills that his aunt bought after Ben died. It would be easy to pocket them on his way out, and no one would know he was having such a hard time sleeping.OrPeter is having a hard time sleeping, so he does the most rational thing. He takes sleeping pills.Bad Things Happen Bingo: Overdose
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810915
Comments: 14
Kudos: 277





	Can You Hear Me Screaming, “Please Don’t Leave Me”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies!
> 
> This one took WAY longer than I thought it was going to. I’ve been working on my Bad Things Happen Bingo ideas and I already have the next four, yes four, mapped out and ready to write. With school starting soon, I know I won’t be writing as much as I was able to in the summer. Especially since we have no idea what this year will look like. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy!
> 
> **Trigger warning for allusions to attempted suicide**

To say that Peter was having a bad day was an understatement. He and May got into another argument about Spider-Man, even though it wasn't his fault that he was late the previous night. There was a hostage situation that he had to take care of. It wasn't that he didn't trust the police, he did, but there were too many men with guns and too few officers on site. There was a kid in the store. Peter couldn't walk away. In doing so, he ended up being over an hour late getting home, and of course, Aunt May was still awake waiting for him. Thankfully, they didn't talk about it then, but Peter suspected that waiting gave Aunt May time to think through her punishment. 

Two weeks without Spider-Man. 

Peter had protested the punishment until Aunt May threatened to make it a month. The boy knew he wouldn't be able to go that long without saving people. It was hard enough to go the two weeks that he knew he deserved. What May didn't understand was that Spider-Man wasn't something he did for fun. It was something he had to do. 

He could hear them; all the people who cried out at night. He could hear the whimpers of children in their homes when they got in trouble for sneaking sweets from the kitchen. He could hear the heartbeat of a scared woman as she walked home at night. He could hear the threats lobbed at the homeless that cowered in the darkened corners of alleyways. He could hear all the turmoil that rang through the city.

Usually, he was able to drown the sounds out if he tried hard enough. If he tired himself out with patrol or kept his mind on something, he could block out the city. But there were nights that his mind couldn't conjure a single moment of concentration. Not a single ounce of peace. Normally, when this would happen, Peter would go out in the suit. He would help those he could because it was his job. His responsibility. Though, the way patrolling made his muscles feel like rubber and his body ache enough for him to fall into a deep sleep wasn't an unwelcome side effect. 

But instead of swinging through the city, Peter lay on his bed, trying to drown out the sounds coming from far below his apartment. He had tried studying to keep his mind busy, but it only took him a couple of hours before he went through everything. Then, he cleaned his room, much to Aunt May's pleasure. He had dinner and tried not to notice the worried glances May was shooting his way. He tried pacing the length of his room. But even with the monotonous motions he went through, he couldn't tire himself out or calm his brain enough for it to grant him the sleep that he craved. 

Peter groaned as he looked at his clock and realized it was already four in the morning. Peter hadn't realized it was that late, but he was dreading his alarm that would chime in a couple of hours. He had a math test at school the next day that he was sure to fail and an Academic Decathlon meeting after school. MJ would murder him if he skipped it, so he resigned himself to his long day coming up and hoped he wouldn’t accidentally stick to something, which happened sometimes when he wasn’t careful.

He closed his eyes, trying to get at least a few minutes of sleep. He tried not to concentrate on anything other than his breathing. Slowly the sounds from the city drifted to a low hum. The silence enveloped him, and Peter almost cried with relief as he felt his body slowly relaxing into his pillow. 

As if his life was being run by a cruel god, the sound of a phone chiming punctured the silence that Peter craved. Lifting his head slightly, he banged it against his pillow a few times while cursing the person who messaged him. Then he cursed himself for not putting it on silent.

Sighing in resolution, Peter picked up his phone and was greeted with Tony Stark's contact picture smiling at him. It wasn’t one of his public smiles that he showed to news cameras, but the soft one he held when he saw Peter.

**4:01 Mr. Stark:** Hey, kiddo. Just wanted to check that you were still coming over tomorrow

**4:01 Mr. Stark:** Well, I guess it's today. Sorry about the time, kid.

**4:02 Mr. Stark:** Just text me when you wake up.

**4:04 Peter:** I'm awake.

**4:04 Peter:** Are you sure I'm supposed to come over today? I thought I was coming over on Saturday.

**4:05 Mr. Stark:** May didn't tell you?

**4:05 Mr. Stark:** Why are you up anyway? Isn't it past your bedtime or something?

**4:07 Peter:** May didn't say anything to me. What's going on?

**4:10 Incoming Call: Tony Stark**

Peter groaned a bit, wondering why Tony was calling him at four in the morning. Even if he was texting back, it was odd that Tony would call him. Peter took a deep breath and hit the accept button.

"Hi, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbled.

"You never answered my question. Why are you up?" Tony asked, not bothering with greetings.

Peter stared at the ceiling for a second, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. When nothing came to him, he said, "I just woke up and decided to check my phone. There's really no reason, Mr. Stark."

There was silence on the other side of the phone for a few moments. Peter figured the man was deciding whether or not to believe him.

"You're not out in your suit, are you?" he finally asked.

"No. I’m still grounded. Plus, you would know if I was because you have more protocols for my suit than you probably have for your own," Peter grumbled, knowing the man was fishing for information.

"Well, I gotta keep everyone's favorite vigilante alive and kicking. Not to mention, your aunt would flay me alive if anything happened to you."

"You know she won't actually kill you, right?"

"I don't want to take my chances on that. Italian women are scary when they are mad. Anyway, she called me yesterday and said you've been in a funk. I suggested that you come stay the weekend at the Tower. There are a few Spidey things I wanna run by you."

Peter draped his arm over his eyes, ignoring the several alarm clocks going off around the building and his neighbors' morning activities three doors down. "Sure. If May said it was okay, then we should be fine."

"Happy will pick you up after school. Do me a favor, and don't be late," Tony said.

"I'm never late," Peter scoffed.

"Sure. Except every time you are, I get a call from Happy about how you are going to be late, and I shouldn't send out the national guard to look for you."

Peter wracked his brain for something to say that didn't sound whiny or rude but came up with nothing. So he decided to hum in acknowledgment instead. 

Tony sighed softly. "Get some sleep, kiddo. You know I worry about you," he said, his voice becoming softer than Peter had ever heard it before. 

"I know, Mr. Stark. See you after school. Promise I won't be late."

Peter sighed as the line went dead. He knew Mr. Stark cared about him and that he was just trying to do what was best. Sometimes it felt like Peter was failing at every turn, and there was nothing he could do about it. No matter what he did, someone would be disappointed in him. He knew Aunt May was worried; he would have to be a fool to miss the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She forgot that he could hear exceptionally well and would go into her room to talk about him with Mr. Stark or Pepper. He tried not to listen to the conversations, but he couldn't always help it. 

Peter flinched as he heard glass shatter from the alley three blocks away. It sounded like someone threw a bottle against the wall, and Peter could practically hear every crack that developed as the glass broke. Closing his eyes tightly, Peter willed himself to get at least a bit of rest before his alarm went off, even if he didn't get any actual sleep, it would help a little bit. 

How was he going to get through the weekend without Mr. Stark figuring out that Peter was sleep-deprived? This thought plagued Peter as he stared at the ceiling, wishing his brain and ears would just disconnect from the world. 

Then it occurred to him. There was a bottle of sleeping pills that his aunt bought after Ben died. She was having trouble sleeping, so she bought the pills to push her along a bit. It was a temporary fix while she grieved, and thankfully she was able to get to sleep on her own after a while. He knew she kept them in her medicine cabinet, and she wouldn't be home in the morning when he left for school. It would be easy to pocket them on his way out, and no one would know he was having such a hard time sleeping. 

Peter was still thinking about this when he startled slightly from the shrill noise of May's alarm going off. 

5:00. 

School was going to be terrible. 

~

The black Audi pulled up to the Avengers Tower just as the rain started pelting the asphalt around the city. Peter was hoping to talk with Ned and MJ a bit before Happy picked him up, but his hopes were dashed when the man was already waiting for him outside the school. He tried to make pleasant conversation with the man that drove him every couple of weeks, but he was too tired to keep it up for long. So, as they parked, Peter wasn't surprised when Happy turned to him with a worried frown. 

"Okay, kid. What's going on with you?" he asked.

Peter did his best to give a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing. Just a bit tired."

Happy squinted his eyes slightly. "Honestly, you look like crap."

"Thanks," Peter said dryly.

"I mean it. Does Tony know what's going on with you?"

"Yep. Don't worry about it, Happy."

"Fine. Get out before I start to actually feel sorry for you."

Peter gave the man a nod and slid out of the car with a slight groan. He had gotten used to how his muscles would pull tight after a rough patrol, but the ache that had seeped into his bones all day was something different. Peter was no stranger to not getting sleep, but this was the longest he's been without at least a few hours and his body was feeling it.

Usually, Mr. Stark would meet Peter in the lab after he was done with his meetings. Sometimes, he was there before Peter, but that wasn't the norm. So, when Peter heard the loud bass of rock music coming from the lab, he let out a small smile. Mr. Stark never played his music that loud when Peter was in the lab because of his senses, something Peter was eternally grateful for. 

Pushing open the door, Peter winced slightly at the volume of the ACDC song that Mr. Stark was listening to. 

"That'll make you go deaf, you know," Peter yelled over the music. 

"Fri, music," Mr. Stark instructed his A.I. before turning to Peter with a smile. "If it hasn't done it yet, I'm sure it won't. How was school?"

Peter shrugged off his backpack as he reached his small desk on the side of the room. "It was okay."

"Did you end up getting any sleep after we got off the phone?"

"Yep. Not much, but it was better than nothing. Did you?" Peter asked, trying to distract from the lie. 

“Nice try changing the subject. Not happening. I can tell you haven’t been sleeping.”

"I have been-"

"With the circles under your eyes that have their own circles, I would seriously doubt that. Which, by the way, you have a bedtime."

"What?" Peter groaned. "I'm not five years old. You've never given me a bedtime before."

"Still. My house. My rules. Yada yada." Mr. Stark waved his hand in Peter's general direction. 

"That's not fair," Peter argued. 

"No, what's not fair is the fact that I have been working on this prototype by myself because you have school. Now, get over here and help me with this."

Peter smiled slightly as he trudged over to the workbench. He knew Mr. Stark loved that Peter was able to be a real kid and go to high school, but there was a part of him that wondered how life would be when he didn't have school to take his time. Peter wondered if Mr. Stark would want him to work directly with him full time, or if he would have to start from the bottom of the company. 

As it was, Peter was content with spending time with his mentor in the lab where he had access to materials his classmates only dreamed about. He was fine watching the man work and learning as much as possible, just in case he didn't have the opportunity to continue with the internship after college. He loved watching Mr. Stark next to him fiddle with a piece of technology until he found the solution to a problem he faced. There was a manic concentration that Mr. Stark had that worked for him, even if it meant there were half-finished projects scattered around the lab. 

"See how this wire is starting to fray a bit?" Mr. Stark asked, pulling Peter out of his thoughts. 

"Yep."

"Okay, what do we need to do? Step by step."

Peter thought about it for a minute before launching into his solution and explaining why. When he was done, Mr. Stark smiled slightly at him. Something like pride flooded his voice when he said, "perfect."

After dinner, they worked for a few hours before Mr. Stark cleared his throat and turned to face Peter. "So. Anything you wanna talk about? Anything going on in that head of yours that makes it hard to sleep?"

Peter caught the groan that almost burst from his lips. "Not really. Just normal stuff."

"Normal is relative," Mr. Stark argued. "Come on, kid, spill it."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" Peter asked.

"It's like you know me." 

Peter stalled as much as he could before Mr. Stark's gaze was too much to ignore. He looked at his fingers that were intertwined in this lap. Hesitating, Peter said, "sometimes it's just hard to sleep. It's like my brain won't shut up." He decided that part of the truth was enough. Mr. Stark didn't need to know about the nightmares or the constant barrage of stimuli when his senses were fragile enough for a sneeze to send him into a sensory overload. 

"That makes sense. The same thing happens to me. Sometimes I wanna carve my brain out just to make it stop, but I've decided I like my intelligence."

"So how do you? Make it stop, I mean?" Peter mumbled, almost desperately.

Mr. Stark grimaced slightly. "I don't know how to tell you this, kid, but I spend a lot of my time awake because I would rather be productive than just lying in bed. Not that I'm suggesting that for you."

Peter hung his head slightly and huffed an annoyed breath. "Well, I could just stay down here and help you in the lab," he suggested hopefully. 

"Nice try, Underoos. You still have a bedtime." The man checked his watch. "Which is in about twenty minutes."

"What? Come on, Mr. Stark, can't I have another hour?" Peter asked. 

"No can do, kiddo. Let's go up to the apartment and get you some hot tea before you head off to bed. Maybe it'll help put you to sleep. All this can wait until tomorrow."

Peter frowned but followed Mr. Stark out of the lab. As they walked down the hallway, the man put an arm around his shoulders in a show of comfort and adoration. Their mentor friendship really came a long way since that car ride home from Germany, and Peter was grateful for it. He knew Mr. Stark didn't have to spend time with him or teach him anything, and for a while, he thought that he was just muscle for the Avengers to use when they needed him. As time went on, Peter realized that Mr. Stark was genuinely worried and protective of him. It was annoying, but it also left Peter with a warm feeling in his stomach every time a new protocol was enforced. 

As Peter watched Mr. Stark expertly make a tea that was supposed to help with sleeping, he couldn't help but chuckle. "I never thought you would know how to make tea. Isn’t there a rule about coffee drinkers not being able to make tea?"

Without pausing his task, Mr. Stark hummed. "Well, it helps Pepper sleep. I learned a long time ago that tea was always something that calmed her down if she was having a bad day. I figured it was worth it to learn."

Peter took the mug that was presented to him and inhaled the slightly bitter scent. He hardly ever drank tea, but was pleasantly surprised that he liked it so much. 

"Thanks," he murmured. 

Mr. Stark shifted slightly on his feet and leaned against the counter, so he looked as casual as possible. "You know, after New York, I had some pretty bad nightmares."

Peter tensed slightly, not knowing where Mr. Stark was going with his statement. 

Without waiting for a response, Mr. Stark continued, "I thought there was something wrong with me. I even accidentally called a suit to me one night, and it attacked Pepper." Pausing, Mr. Stark looked Peter in the eye and made sure the boy was listening. "When bad things happen to us, sometimes we have dreams. It's our brain's way of working through the things we can't face or don't want to think about while we're up and kicking. It's normal. So, if there's something else going on that you don't want to tell me about, that's fine. I just want to make sure you know that I'm here, you know, if you want to talk about it. I get it."

Peter nodded minutely and gave Mr. Stark a small smile. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

Mr. Stark sniffed loudly and stood up straight. "Alright, enough feelings. Finish up your tea so we can get you to bed."

The sound of heels clicking along the floor greeted Peter's ears right before Pepper's voice rang out. "I hope you're going to take your own advice, Tony." 

Pepper stepped into the kitchen, her hair loosely cascading down her back, and her mascara slightly smudged. It looked like she had a long day, but she managed to shoot Peter a wide smile. "Hi, sweetie. Did you guys have fun today?"

"Oh yeah. You know how Mr. Stark is, there's always something to work on." 

Turning an accusatory stare at Mr. Stark, Pepper hummed. "Oh, I know. That's why he's been running on coffee for, what has it been, two days now?"

Mr. Stark had the decency to look a bit sheepish. "It hasn't been two days. I slept last night in the lab."

Pepper arched an eyebrow. "F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"Boss took a thirty-minute nap last night at approximately two in the morning."

"Hey," Mr. Stark admonished. 

Peter couldn't help feeling horrified. "Mr. Stark, why didn't you tell me? We could have done something else, or you could have taken a nap."

"I was up anyway. Plus, I'm not asking you over here to just leave you alone. I have standards. Anyway, you have room to talk."

Pepper shook her head at the two geniuses. "I, for one, am exhausted. I also think it's a good time for  _ everyone  _ to get some sleep." 

Her eyes raked over Peter, and he was suddenly aware of his slumped posture and unkempt hair. He knew he looked horrible, and he was glad Mr. Stark didn't say anything to him about his appearance. Pepper, it seemed, didn't mind pointing it out. 

"Pep, I have a ton of-"

"No. You need to sleep, Tony." Pepper made her way over to the man, her hands on her hips. "First off, you need to set a better example for Peter.” Casting Peter an accusatory glance, she said, “don't think I haven't noticed the dark circles under your eyes, young man.”

Then she turned back to Tony and leaned in close. "Second. I've woken up alone in bed for the past two days."

Peter watched as the two adults in front of him had a conversation with their facial expressions. He saw the arched eyebrows and the tilting of Mr. Stark's head before he understood the context. Peter felt heat shoot up into his cheeks, and he found his tea suddenly interesting. He downed the rest of it and tried to suppress the smile that broke out on his face when Mr. Stark sighed heavily. Peter always found it amusing when Pepper put Mr. Stark in his place. So far, she was the only person who could boss the man around that Peter saw, so he couldn't stop himself from finding the situation heartwarming. For all that Mr. Stark tried to put on a show that he didn't care, Peter could see that facade crack around Pepper. It was nice.

"I'm just gonna..." Peter said, standing up. 

He didn't make it too far before he heard Mr. Stark say, "sorry, Pep. I need to go tuck the kid in."

"We're not done here,  _ Mr. Stark _ ," Pepper warned. "You better be in our bedroom when I get out of the shower."

"Yes, ma'am," Mr. Stark called over his shoulder. 

"Goodnight, Pepper," Peter called. 

"Goodnight, sweetie. Get some rest," Pepper called, her voice warm. It reminded Peter of how his aunt told him goodnight, and he couldn't stop the swell of affection he had for the woman. 

After a pat on the back and a reminder that he needed to actually get some sleep from Mr. Stark, Peter found himself staring at the ceiling. He was far enough above the city that he was able to block out most of the sounds. Thankfully, the building didn't have many residents, and the only thing below them were empty workshops and offices. He could still hear the faint sounds of sirens and the creaking of the building as it swayed slightly. It always made him a bit uneasy to know that he was in a building so tall that the wind actually had an effect on it. Memories of the building that the Vulture brought down on him flashed through Peter's mind, which he hastily pushed away.

Still, he contemplated the work he and Mr. Stark needed to do the next day as well as the homework he had. As his mind went through his checklists, Peter’s heart rate began to increase. He didn’t mean to stress himself out. It just kind of happened.

Peter tried to calm himself down, but he was already too wound up. Before he could stop it, the sounds from the city suddenly became clear. It was almost as if he was standing in the middle of the city with headphones that amplified the smallest sounds. Peter knew the only way to make it go away was to calm down. That was easier said than done.

He went through all the ways that he could have avoided his sensory overload. He tried to drown out the sounds by thinking about MJ and the book that she was reading the day before. She told him about it in great detail at lunch, and he couldn’t get over how excited she looked. It was a rare thing for her to tear down her walls and Peter was grateful that she could do it with him.

He glanced over at his clock and groaned when he saw that it was past two in the morning. He had been thinking about everything for over three hours. 

Maybe he should go talk to Mr. Stark about it. He might be able to help. The man did say he could go to him if he needed it. Peter shook his head free of that thought. Mr. Stark needed his rest, and Pepper would be angry if he bothered them. The woman said herself that she was worried about Mr. Stark. It really wasn’t his place to interrupt their sleep. He would just deal with it himself. Then a thought occurred to him.

The pills.

He could take the sleeping pills. 

Sliding out of bed, Peter made his way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. He searched through his bag, shifting aside his toothbrush and grabbed the pills. The instructions said to take two capsules, but he was sure he needed to take more. Peter had an advanced metabolism, so most of the time, drugs didn't work on him. Maybe if he took more than normal people needed, he would be fine, and it would work. 

He uncapped the bottle and shook the pills into his hand. Maybe if he took the whole bottle, it would work faster. He knew it was dangerous for people with regular metabolisms, but he would be fine. Worst case, he would probably sleep longer than he usually did. Peter made his way back to his bed before grabbing the glass of water on his bedside table. 

The pills were bitter as they slid down his throat, the coating on them dissolving as soon as they hit his tongue. It took a few gulps of water to get them all down, but he decided that it was to be expected. Peter lay down in his bed, praying they would work soon. 

~

There was buzzing on Tony's wrist. He groaned and pressed the button on the side of his watch. Whoever was calling could wait until morning. Shifting, Tony tried to slide back into the dreamless sleep that he had fallen into. It wasn't often that he was able to sleep so soundly, so someone calling was more annoying than it should have been. 

"Boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke over the speakers in the bedroom. 

That got his attention. He set the A.I. in silent mode, which meant she could only contact him through his watch unless there was an emergency.

"Fri, what's going on?"

"Mr. Parker's vital signs are worrisome. He is not responding to my inquiries and has thrown up in his sleep."

Tony felt his heart almost jump out of his chest. No. "What happened?" he yelled as he flung himself out of bed. 

"I'm not sure, Boss. His breathing accelerated, and he passed out. He has been unconscious for approximately five minutes."

"Get Cho down here. Now," he yelled as he ran across the hall. 

Tony flung himself into Peter's room without knocking and stopped cold when he saw Peter lying on the ground. The blankets were tangled around his legs, and he was on his stomach. Crashing painfully on his knees, Tony turned his kid over, ignoring the vomit that was splattered down Peter's shirt. 

"Peter!" Tony yelled, trying to wake the unconscious teen. 

Pulling Peter into his lap, he tapped the side of the boy's face causing it to lull to the side. Peter was limp in his arms, and he was so pale. He was so fucking pale. It made Tony feel like concrete had been poured into his chest. 

"Wake up, kid. Come on. Wake up for me," Tony pleaded. 

He placed his hand over Peter's pulse point and sighed in relief when there was movement under his fingers. He was still alive, but his pulse was slow, almost nonexistent. 

"Peter!" Tony shook the kid again. He was sure he wasn't supposed to be this rough with him, but he couldn't control the panic that crawled up his throat. 

"Fri, where the hell is Cho?"

"She's in the elevator." 

"Peter? Come on, wake up." Tony ran his shaking fingers through Peter's hair, trying to comfort him, to wake him, really to get any reaction from the teenager. "Please, kid. Don't do this. Please don't leave me."

"Tony?"

Tony turned to find Dr. Cho racing into the room. She took in the sight of him holding Peter and got to business. 

"How long has he been out?" she asked.

"About ten minutes, maybe."

"Was he feeling sick earlier today?" Cho asked as she ran her knuckles over Peter’s chest.

"No. He was tired and hadn't been sleeping, but he was feeling fine." Tony cast his eyes around the darkened room. He froze at the sight of a pill bottle next to Peter's bed. 

"Cho," Tony choked out. "I think...I think he took sleeping pills."

Tony heard the sharp intake of breath when Cho saw the pill bottle. 

"We need to get him to the MedBay. Can you carry him?"

Without wasting any time, Tony gathered the limp boy in his arms. He was so heavy. Tony felt sick connecting the word ‘deadweight’ with Peter. Running down the corridors, Tony could feel Peter's head bounce lightly against his chest, and he prayed that he wasn't too late. 

"It's gonna be okay, kid. I swear. It's gonna be okay. I got you," Tony murmured, trying to comfort the boy. Even if Peter couldn't hear him, it was doing something to help his own anxiety. 

Setting Peter down gently on a gurney, Tony didn't have time to breathe before he was pushed aside.

"Suspected overdose. There's no reaction to a sternum massage. We need to perform a gastric lavage," Cho was calling out to her assistants. "Tony, you need to leave."

"No, I'm not leaving him," Tony growled.

"You're in our way. If you want him to have a chance of living, you need to let us work."

Tony's hands shook as he took a step back. Every fiber in his being wanted to hold onto Peter while he was being worked on. The logical part of him, however, knew that Cho was right. As the nurses flitted around the room, Tony was able to catch a glimpse of Peter between their bodies. It was the worst sight Tony could imagine. Nothing could have prepared him for the moment that Peter's limbs started convulsing like he was being electrocuted.

"He's seizing!" 

"I need more hands over here!"

"He’s crashing!”

"Stark, get out of here!"

Tony could hardly comprehend all the screaming before being pushed out of the room by a surprisingly strong nurse. The door shut in front of him, and he knew there was a very real possibility that he would never see Peter alive again. What was he going to tell May? He was responsible for Peter, and he let this happen. It was his fault. 

Thin fingers wrapped around his wrist, and he turned to see Pepper's worried face. 

"Tony? F.R.I.D.A.Y. said she called May. What's going on?"

"I...he...oh God, Pep. Peter overdosed on sleeping pills. Cho is working on him now, but I don't..."

"Oh, God," Pepper whispered. She gathered Tony in her arms, his face buried in her shoulder. "He's going to be okay."

She led him to a row of chairs on the side of the room and ushered him into one. They were silent for a minute before Pepper asked, almost timidly, "did he...was it on purpose?"

Tony had been thinking about it. God, had the thought entered in his mind. He didn't want to believe it, but the truth was that he didn't know. He thought back to his interactions with Peter over the past few days. There was definitely something wrong with the kid. He hadn't been sleeping, and Tony knew May was worried. She was concerned enough to suggest Peter staying with Tony a bit longer than usual, which was a first. Peter was having problems concentrating in school. There was also something he wasn't telling Tony. What happened to make him so closed off?

"Tony?" Pepper pressed.

"I don't know." The words tasted stale in his mouth. He  _ should _ have known. He should have seen the signs. He should have worked harder to protect Peter. 

Now all he could do was sit and wait for news that would either comfort or break him. All he knew was that if Peter died, he wouldn't recover from it. 

~

The first thing Peter noticed was the pressure in his abdomen and throat. He tried to swallow but stopped when the feeling of sandpaper sliding down his esophagus was too much to bear. He wondered briefly if he was getting sick. Then, he realized there was someone in his room. Peter could hear their heartbeat. No, heartbeats. There were two people. 

Peter opened his eyes and noted that the ceiling was different than the one in his room. It was one he saw more often than he wanted to admit, and he groaned. He was in the MedBay. He didn't remember going out as Spider-Man. He didn't really remember much after getting ready for bed the night before. 

"Hey, kid. You with us?" a voice asked to his right. 

Mr. Stark was sitting in one of the chairs that were pulled next to his bed. The man had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a mess but his tense shoulders relaxed when Peter's eyes met his. 

"Mr. Stark? What happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us."

"Us?" Peter looked to his left and felt his heart drop. May was sleeping with her head next to his hip, and her hand was wrapped around his fingers, holding him even in her unconscious state. That was when he knew something terrible happened. 

"Do you remember what happened? Because I gotta tell you, kiddo. We are going to have one hell of a conversation," Mr. Stark told him. There was fear in his eyes that confused Peter. 

"I...I don't remember. I remember getting ready for bed."

Mr. Stark glanced over at May's sleeping form. "Do you remember taking pills?" He asked, almost cautiously.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows a bit. He remembered picking up the sleeping pills and taking a few of them, but he didn't know why that mattered. Instead of voicing this, he nodded his head in affirmation. 

Mr. Stark swallowed thickly, his eyes fixed on his hands that were clasped tightly in his lap. Peter watched as Mr. Stark struggled to put words to his thoughts. The boy had never seen him at a loss for words, so to say he was concerned was an understatement. 

"Mr. Stark?" Peter whispered, his voice tinged with apprehension. 

"Why did you do it, Pete? Why would you...please just explain it to me," Mr. Stark practically begged, still refusing to meet Peter's gaze. 

"Do what? I don't..."

Mr. Stark's head jerked up. There was raw terror in his eyes that made Peter's heart drop. What happened? 

" _ Why did you do it?  _ Did you think you couldn't come to us? Is everything that May and I have been doing not enough for you? I just don't understand why you didn't think you could come to me, kid. You know I would drop  _ everything  _ if it meant helping you. So, I just want to know why I found you lying on your bedroom floor covered in your own vomit with an empty bottle of sleeping pills next to you.  _ Why _ ?"

Peter took in the haggard appearance of his mentor and the words that were aggressively thrown at him. Mr. Stark had never talked to him like that before. Never turned his voice into the biting tone he just spoke with. Not even after the ferry incident. Peter felt heat behind his eyes and tried to blink away the tears that gathered without his permission. 

Shifting of fabric to his left made Peter flick his eyes over to his aunt, who had lifted her head. She was silent, waiting for the answer to Tony's question. 

"I just wanted to sleep," Peter explained through a tight throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry anyone. My senses have been going crazy more and more, and I just wanted to sleep. But I kept hearing them, Mr. Stark. Everyone who needed help. And I just wanted it all to stop."

May grabbed his hand tighter in hers. She tried to speak, but stopped when the sound wouldn't leave her throat. 

Any color left in Mr. Stark's face drained when Peter made his explanations. "You...You mean you didn't try to..."

Peter snapped his head back in incredulity. "What? Kill myself? No, of course not. I just wanted to sleep. I knew my metabolism is super fast, and medicine doesn't really work on me, so I just took extra. I thought I would be okay." 

Mr. Stark's shoulders slumped, and he let out a ragged breath. The tension seemed to melt off of him in almost palpable waves. "Okay. Okay, I can work with that."

"Did you really think I would try... _ that _ ?" Peter asked, turning to his aunt. He thought the adults in his life would know better than to believe he would choose to end his life when there were so many people left that needed his help. No matter how much his life sucked, he would never leave May by herself. 

With sincerity shining through her eyes, May looked slightly apologetic. "All we had to go off of was what Tony found. I didn't want to believe it, but sweetie, we had to pump your stomach because you took so many pills. What else were we supposed to think?"

"I don't know. But I swear, it wasn't on purpose. I didn't mean for  _ this  _ to happen. May, you know I'd never do that to you. You have to believe me."

"We do, kiddo," Mr. Stark said softly. "But I think it's safe to say there's going to be extra protocols for F.R.I.D.A.Y. after all of this."

Peter winced. "But-"

"No. I'm not budging on this one, kid. If I ever have to walk into a room and wonder if your heart is beating again, I'm going to lose my damn mind."

May chimed in, "I, for one, fully support some extra protocols."

Peter's head slumped back into the pillow. "There's no way I'm talking you guys out of this, am I?"

"Not a chance," Aunt May said. "We almost lost you, baby." Her face dropped slightly, and it sent a spike of regret through Peter.

"I'm okay," Peter reassured her. 

"I know. You know, I just worry. With all the Spider-Man stuff and now this, I just...you need to stop scaring me." She smiled a tired smile and ran the back of her hand down his cheek. "Let me go find Dr. Cho and tell her you're awake." With another tentative glance, Aunt May left Peter alone with Mr. Stark. 

A heavy silence descended on the room, but he didn't want to chance breaking it. He didn't even know what to say. 

"Bruce is working on a compound that should help you sleep. You know, with your metabolism, we can't be too careful. And I know you might need it sometime because you can't sleep. So, I asked Bruce, and he said he would work on something," Mr. Stark ranted. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and eyes focused on his shoes.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter said, trying to make peace. 

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Mr. Stark hummed and nodded, still not looking at Peter. 

Peter felt his heart drop. "Tony."

Mr. Stark's eyes snapped up to meet his. Peter never used the man’s first name.

"I'm sorry." Even Peter could hear the desperation in his voice, but he couldn't help it.

"I know, kid. I just need you to understand how close this one was. Peter, your heart stopped," Mr. Stark's voice cracked at the end. "I need you to talk to me next time. If you need help, I need you to come to me. Especially when it comes to drugs. Why didn't you tell me you were having problems with your senses?"

Peter shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you. I thought I could handle it."

Mr. Stark sighed and leaned forward. "We’ve been over this a thousand times. I'm never too busy for you, kid. Not for anything."

Peter nodded in understanding. "Am I going to be okay?"

"Dr. Cho said that your metabolism helped with everything. If you weren't, you, the amount of pills you swallowed would have killed you. But, they pumped your stomach, which by the way, means you're on light food for the next few days. You need to stay overnight for observation, but then you can go to your room."

"Do I really have to stay the night here?" Peter complained.

"Yep," Tony said, popping the 'p'. "Then, you're gonna stay at the Tower for the week, so F.R.I.D.A.Y. can keep an eye on you. No arguments. You lost that privilege when you thought it was a good idea to have sleeping pills for a midnight snack."

Peter grimaced at the man's words, but didn't argue. He knew he messed up and that he worried everyone. It wasn't his best idea, in the long run. 

Mr. Stark gazed at Peter with a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, we could work on something to help your senses. I was thinking of some small earplugs to dull the sounds and some glasses for the brightness. We can start on them on our next lab day, and before then, I can draw up some specs. We could even work on something that would adjust the levels automatically depending on your environment. You know, if that's something you want. If not, that-that's fine. I was just thinking-"

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too," Peter whispered. 

"Well, that's, I mean. I never said that I... you know, so I don't know where that came from. You know, you can't just spring things like that on me. I'm not good with feelings." Mr. Stark waved his hand in a manic flourish, then took a deep breath. He shifted in his seat slightly. "But, you know, if I had a kid I would love them. And you're kind of like my kid. So, you know. Take it as you will."

A smile played at the edge of Peter's lips. He knew that was a lot for Mr. Stark to say. As the man said, he wasn't good with feelings. Still, Peter could see the love Mr. Stark had for him through the things the man did for him. He saw it in the movie nights where he was allowed to pick the movie without a second thought, the way Mr. Stark was overprotective with his protocols, and the small smiles the man shot his way when he thought Peter wasn't looking. 

"You're such a softie," Peter joked. 

"I'll deny everything I just said if you tell anyone. I don't need that kind of reputation. I'm supposed to be a badass."

"Trust me; no one that actually knows you thinks you're a badass." 

"I think I liked you better when you worshipped the ground I walked on. Maybe I can get Strange to use his magic rock to bring that back," Mr. Stark threatened. 

Peter brought a hand up to his heart in mock hurt. "You wouldn't."

"Try me, insomnia boy," Mr. Stark deadpanned.

Peter knew the next few days at the Tower were going to be a mix between being coddled and having to endure sarcastic comments about reading labels and not assuming anything. There were going to be reminders about speaking up when he needed something and reassurances that he wasn't a burden. Mr. Stark was going to stay in the lab until Peter's earplugs and glasses were finished because the man would insist that it was more important than anything else. And if Peter was honest, he was actually looking forward to it. 


End file.
